Chronicles of a Depressed Person
by Radueriel
Summary: Ivan is depressed and teeters on the brink of sanity. It is short but please review anyways. Rated for suicidal and insane thoughts.


SP (Stands for Shadow's Pain): I am working on several stories as ideas come and go. I will try to Update "The Pain of Love" soon.  
  
Shadow: Yeah right. Like you every get off your butt for anything other than donuts and coffee.  
  
SP: Hey, I thought I made it clear that you were to leave me alone. Otherwise…  
  
Shadow: WAIT!! Don't you dare say a word about that. I'll behave.  
  
SP: Good Muse. Isaac, get over here and do the disclaimer.  
  
Isaac: ehem… Golden Sun and all the characters, names, etc. named within are owned by Camelot. The story and its content are owned by the author (ME). This story is unofficial and as such, has no bearing on Camelot or any of its affiliates. It was made purely for the enjoyment of others. Constructive criticism/praise only is welcome.  
  
Isaac: So is it true?  
  
SP: What?  
  
Isaac: That the ending is Shadow's fault?  
  
SP: I can't tell you that but it certainly wasn't my fault.  
  
Mia: (Sneaks up behind me) How could it not be your fault? You're the author.  
  
SP: GAHH!! Mia I thought I told you to never do that again. To answer your question, all angst is the fault of Shadow. It says so under my Bio.  
  
Shadow: You !%!#%#$%!!! You weren't supposed to tell them that. Runs at SP with sword.  
  
SP: OMG, Where did you get that sword. (Runs for dear life).  
  
Shadow: (Comes back after attacking SP) Thanks for letting me borrow your spare sword Isaac.  
  
Isaac: No problem. Just clean the blood off before you return it.  
  
Shadow: OK  
  
SP: help mee….  
  
Chronicles of a Depressed Person:  
  
Ivan forced a smile at the celebration that was happening in the rebuilt Vale.  
  
Behind Ivan's thin smile however, a well of sorrow could be seen. After making a brief appearance, Ivan headed upstairs so that he could be alone. No one thought anything of it. Ivan was always thinking about something.  
  
Upstairs…  
  
Ivan stood by the window, letting the breeze run through his hair and soon became lost in his thoughts.  
  
"The desire for escape grows with each passing day. I am reluctant to leave my dreams as they grant me access to better worlds. My companions think that I am merely tired out. They do not comprehend the truth. The fires of wild energy and depression flare within me. At times it becomes unbearable. The herbs and other medicines do little to quite the burning fire within me and they do not last long even then."  
  
Ivan sighed and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Once again he allowed his thoughts to overtake him.  
  
"Ah to be free. To escape. To live in a different world. A world of joy. The mind is supposed to be our hold on reality. If we lose that hold, does reality change? Is it nothing more than an illusion created by the collective minds of the human race? If so, then why is there so much sorrow? Alas, this reality has robbed me of what would make this life bearable. The gift of flight should rightfully be mine, but the fates are cruel and they cursed me with an irrational fear of heights. The others thought that I was ill when my legs gave out under atop the lighthouse. In truth it was my fear exerting itself physically. I was paralysed with fright and could barely move. Fortunately my companions did not catch on to my weakness. Oh how they would have laughed and teased me."  
  
Tears started to stream down Ivan's face. It was to late however, to stop the thoughts from coming.  
  
"Why was I not gifted with wings as was my right as a descendant of the Jupiter Adepts of old? It seems that the only way to enjoy my element is with the few storms that frequent the area. Once, long ago, I had desired to be aligned with Mars or Venus, but one cannot change what one was meant to be. Tis a shame that I cannot completely control my gift. A gift? Or is it a curse? The others laugh when I mention any of this. They say that I am too young to understand. What they do not know is that I understand only too well. Oh they probably think that I'm thinking about girls or some other trivial thing."   
  
Ivan began to laugh between his silent tears.  
  
"The quite, introspective person that I am led me down a road of escape, down a path that can never be walked. Now my slender hold on reality is becoming more apparent as I slip into the madness. My companions do not notice me wasting away. My face has aged at an accelerated rate. There are wrinkles by my eyes and my hair is starting to fade. Why not give in? There would be no more responsibility, no more stress, no more pretending to be someone who I am not. Why not… NO!!! I mustn't give in. Why? Why did I have to grow up so fast? Why did it have to be so lonely? It… It hurts still. Now I am a bitter cynical shell of a person. A shadow of what once was. Of what might have been. The only solace I find is in the crisp autumn breeze. I let the healing winds wash away my sorrow, my despair. Maybe things are not so bad after all."  
  
"Regrettably the autumn winds came too late this year." I think foggily.  
  
As I look down, I see a knife fall from my hands into a pool of blood at my feet. My blood.  
  
"Too late." I think. "It came too late."  
  
The darkness overcomes me and I think nothing more.  
  
Ivan  
  
RIP  
  
0825-0841 


End file.
